


The Hunter's Call

by ShadowPhoenixRider



Series: Walk on the Wild Side [9]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feelings Realization, Forgiveness, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Khadgar gets yelled at, Reconciliation, Slow Build, Song Lyrics, Warlords of Draenor - Freeform, accidental love confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-03 04:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10235777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowPhoenixRider/pseuds/ShadowPhoenixRider
Summary: Khadgar must put a terrible mistake right, and come to terms as to what exactly he feels for Draggka.





	1. Chapter 1

_Alliance forces from Lion’s Watch have began an assault-_ Khadgar sighed, rubbed his eyes, and tried again. _Alliance forces from Lion’s Watch-_

The archmage set the report down, rubbing his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. Five times he’d tried to read that sentence. Five times he’d lost concentration, and the words didn’t sink in. He might as have been reading Pandaren written by an illiterate drunken goblin, for all he understood of it.

The assault on Tanaan Jungle by the Alliance and Horde continued unabated, both sides trying to foil Gul’dan’s plots, find a way to breach Hellfire Citadel and finally put an end to the accursed warlock once and for all. At least, the Alliance had.

News from the Horde had been steady, making great strides and thwarting an attempt by Gul’dan to take the Cipher. But ever since Cordana had been corrupted and Khadgar had returned to his tower, reports from the Horde had become scarce, and those that did come to him were sparse and vague. Even the Alliance reports noted the faction seemed listless, if not slightly demoralised.

Khadgar tried not to think about the Horde’s malaise, or their commander. Especially their commander. Ever since he’d broken off the relationship with Draggka, a large, immovable lump had settled into his chest, as if he’d swallowed a stone and it now sat in his stomach as a constant reminder. _You know what you did._

“I had to do it,” he said out loud. “There’s no other way to protect her.” _  
_

The empty silence was his answer, and for the first time in a long time, Khadgar felt quite alone.

The silence was suddenly broken by the sound of leathery wings, and Khadgar looked up to see a large, brightly coloured bat flutter into his tower, before it reformed into the shape of an equally large troll druid. He took the traditional slouch of his people, his mohawk a familiar shock of red, whilst his eyes were a dark brown. His face was tattooed with purple and white lines; the purple over his forehead and side of his nose, the white down his cheeks and chin, and he sported an impressive rack of tusks, the features identifying him immediately.

“Well met, Dranka.” Khadgar spoke, bowing his head with respect. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I doubt you be callin’ it dat in a minute, mon.” Dranka replied, his Zandali accent thick, and the mage tensed at the humourless lilt to his tone.

“How so?” He asked warily.

“I be needin’ to talk to ya about my sistah.” Dranka said, striding forward. Khadgar both blessed and cursed the troll’s straight-to-business approach, meeting the troll’s gaze easily due to their similar height.

“Draggka? Why?”

“Don’t be playin’ dumb wit me, mon!” Dranka snapped, and the mage bristled at the sudden change. “You be knowing full well why I be here!”

“I’m sure if I don’t, you’ll be as so kind as to enlighten me.” The archmage replied dangerously.

Dranka’s dark eyes flashed with what only could be pure fury, and he closed the remaining gap between them with one stride.

“Enlighten you? _Enlighten you_?!” Dranka rose from his slouch to his full height, towering over the human mage. “Ya be breakin’ my baby sistah’s heart, mon! I be seeing her tryin’ to keep it together in front of everyone! I be seeing her askin’ da priest to heal her broken hands! I be hearing her cry and curse when she tinks everyone have gone to sleep!” His lips pulled back to reveal his teeth and even more of his giant tusks. “And ya have da nerve to play games wit me?“

It took a moment for Khadgar to fully grasp how completely and utterly awfully he’d misread the situation. He was a tall man, but he was nothing compared to Dranka at his full height of almost seven feet, and the troll’s large tusks were mere inches away from his face. He realised that if the druid wanted to, it would only take the quickest strike from his head to gore the mage and inflict terrible wounds, before he even took in the fact Dranka could take the form of a bear or a tiger.

And that was alongside his harsh words, which had pierced Khadgar’s body as easily as arrows from Draggka’s bow. The lump in his chest was now wedged into his heart and searing with pain, and it briefly robbed him of air. He’d not considered that Draggka may have told her brother of their relationship. But of course she had…he was family, and Khadgar wondered if he could even begin to extricate himself from this death trap he had made for himself. Especially since he noticed that Dranka’s blue fur now had ghostly outlines of tiger stripes.

“Dranka, I’m so sorry, I did know.” He began, forcing himself to look into the troll’s eyes, least he think he was lying again. “I…We agreed to keep our relationship secret, because, well, we’re on opposite sides, and I’m a member of the Council of the Kirin Tor. It’s not something we can have out in the open, and I, I didn’t know she’d told you. If I’d known, I would have been much more forthcoming towards you. Honestly.”

The troll held his gaze for several tense seconds before he snorted, and to Khadgar’s relief he saw the anger fade from the dark eyes, as did the stripes from his fur.

“Alright. I believe ya.” He relaxed down to his usual slouch, and the mage found he could take a breath in again. “But why did ya do dat to her, mon?”

“I’m trying to protect her from Gul’dan.” Khadgar said. “He recently corrupted Cordana to get to me, and with her gone, the next person in line is Draggka. If, if he found out that we were in a relationship…” The mage shook his head. “I couldn’t have Gul’dan use me against her. I can handle him, I have _been_ handling him. She…she needs to be at full strength to fight him and his allies. Not…Not plagued by doubt and lies.”

Dranka raised an eyebrow.

“Dat sounds pretty selfish, mon,” he said, and the archmage prickled.

“Selfish?” He cried. “Surely you understand that I’m protecting her-”

“Protecting yaself, ya mean.” The druid said. “You and me both know dat Draggka be able to handle herself. Hell, I not be wit her most of her life, and she be doin’ just fine just her an’ Spike!”

“But Gul’dan isn’t like what she’s faced before!” Khadgar insisted. “He’s-”

“Manipulative, dangerous, corruptive, cunning, evil?” Dranka interrupted, counting off his fingers. “You tink she not faced warlocks and dere kind before? Da Sha? Da minions of da Old Gods? Ya really tink she don’t already have Gul’dan afta her?”

“Dranka, listen to me-”

“No.” The force of the druid’s voice stopped him in his tracks with the finality of a brick wall. “Khadgar. Be honest wit me. Be honest wit yaself.”

Khadgar tried for a couple of seconds to form a denial, to insist that it was his main reason. But looking into Draggka’s brother’s eyes, it felt like he was pinned against the wall, that he was a young Kirin Tor initiate again, under the withering gaze of the latest teacher that had caught him sneaking into a place he shouldn’t have. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

In that moment, he let the façade fall, and his shoulders slumped.

“Yes,” he said. Dranka raised an eyebrow.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, it was selfish.” Khadgar managed, the words bitter, and the shame slid down his back like an ooze. “I was…I was terrified.”

“Terrified of what?” Dranka prompted gently.

“I…” Khadgar shook his head, now fully unable to look the troll in eyes. “Ever since Medivh’s spell left me like this, I’ve never tried, never dared to be anything other than a friend to others. I gave up on having anything like what, what Turalyon and Alleria had. I put it behind me, put it away. I am aged before my time, and no matter the schematics, no-one will want me. For me to have anything more with someone…it is an impossibility!” He sighed.

“ _Was_ an impossibility.” The druid corrected, and the mage nodded.

“Yes. I thought it was just admiration at first, just a silly crush that I’d get over. But…But as time went by, as I got to know her, when I found out she felt the same…” Khadgar pulled in a shaky breath, the lump in his chest now starting to constrict like a ligature. “I felt hope, for the first time, that maybe…maybe…”

“And den…”

“And then Cordana was turned.” Khadgar closed his eyes, feeling heat burn at them and the ligature tighten. “Gul’dan took her, right from under my nose, and I, I, I knew Draggka was next, I knew he would get his claws into her and I-” He caught himself, unable to finish the sentence, his chest in a vice that crushed the breath from his lungs.

“You panicked.” Dranka finished for him, and Khadgar nodded.

“The only person I really, truly care for, w-who could care about me, and I cut myself away from her.” He rubbed his hand over his face, catching a tear that had escaped him. “Light help me Dranka, what have I done?”

There was a long pause.

“Dat…be da reason I be here.” Dranka said slowly, and dread began to creep under Khadgar’s skin. “Draggka be missing.”

The mage’s stomach dropped out of his boots, leaving a yawning void.

“W…What?”

“Three days ago, she be leaving Axefall in da Spires of Arak, heading north into da forest.” Dranka hung his head. “We heard no word since den. No sightings, nothing.”

Fear, cold and squirming, twisted in Khadgar’s gut, and he took a deep breath, in an attempt to swallow down the horror that was building inside him. _No. No no no no._

“Draggka, Draggka is a hunter, though. M-Maybe she got side-tracked, or-or her mission got complicated-”

“She never done dis before, Khadgar.” The druid interrupted him. “Dis be different. Dis…”

“This is my fault.” The mage croaked, the realization sinking onto his heart like a weight. He felt sick.

Dranka’s expression was solemn, and he dipped his head in the barest hint of a nod.

“Dis be something only you can fix,” he said.

Khadgar swallowed hard.

“I…I understand, but I don’t, I don’t think I can…” He sighed deeply. “After all this, what I’ve done, I doubt Draggka will want to even see me, let alone talk to me. Besides, I…I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for her! She’s a hunter. If, if she wanted to disappear, then I…I don’t think I could do a single thing about it.”

“Maybe. But you be having da distinct advantage here, mon.” Dranka said. “Ya see, you know her. Ya be knowing her well.”

Despite feeling like the earth of Deadwind Pass, Khadgar managed a weak chuckle.

“That seems a bit rich, coming from her brother.”

“Aye, we maybe blood, but dere be some tings a sistah don’t tell her brudder. Some tings dat she only be tellin’ da people she be close to.” The druid replied, a ghost of a smile playing around his tusks. “Besides, dere must be tings you know dat can help ya find her. Tings she told ya, perhaps?”

The archmage thought for a moment. He remembered some time they’d had in Talador together, when he’d asked her about her ways, so enthralled was he in wanting to know her better. His heart clenched at the memory of her smile, of her amused chuckle and the sparkle in her amber eyes, the shame curling even tighter into him.

“I know…a few things.” He admitted. The druid nodded.

“I be tinking as much. As for whether she’ll be wanting to see ya…” He paused a moment, thinking. “Well, I not be sure, mon. But it be worth a try, don’tcha agree?”

“I don’t know.” Khadgar shifted, looking away. “I…I’ve already caused so much pain, broken her heart, I don’t think…I don’t think I can do this.”

Dranka closed his eyes, blowing out a long sigh of frustration.

“Archmage, I gonna tell ya a story, and you better be fucking listenin’.” The venom to the troll’s voice was palpable, and Khadgar wisely shut his mouth. “When I still be on da Echo Isles, hidin’ from Zalazane an’ his thralls, I be falling for another druid. He were…” Dranka swallowed. “He were everyting I could have ever wanted, and I tink…I tink he felt da same towards me.” Pain, clear and agonising, shone his dark eyes. “I didn’t pluck up enough courage in time. I…I never told him I be loving him, until it were too late, until he were taken from me. I lost him, Khadgar.”

It took a moment for the mage to find the words.

“Dranka…I’m so sorry.”

“Never again, mon.” Steel entered the troll’s voice, and fire replaced the pain in his eyes. “Dere be no way on Azeroth, on Draenor, on any world in da Great Dark dat I be letting da two of ya repeat my mistake.” He stared directly into Khadgar’s eyes. “You love my sistah, don’t you?”

Khadgar hesitated a moment, considering his feelings.

“I…I care very deeply for her, yes.” He replied, though something shifted in the troll’s expression that suggested he was not convinced.

“When Draggka talked about ya, I be getting da feeling she be caring deeply for ya too.” He paused a moment, watching Khadgar intently. “Perhaps…Perhaps she even be loving ya.”

The mage’s heart promptly leapt so high it almost broke through his breastbone. _She…she might love me?_ Khadgar thought, his eyebrows lifting with disbelief before they furrowed. _Oh, Light forgive me, I’ve done all of Gul’dan’s work for him._ He dropped his head in shame.

“Dere be hope, mon,” Dranka said kindly. “Afta every fire, it be looking like nothing will ever grow again. But if ya brush aside de ashes…You can see da new growth, waiting for da rain.” He reached forward, cupping Khadgar’s chin with surprising gentleness and lifted the mage’s head up so their eyes met once more. “Raise ya head up. Lift high your load. You can do dis. You can fix dis. Dis not be da end! A new life be waiting for da both of ya!” He let go, becoming serious, and Khadgar watched in enraptured silence. “You two be no strangers to danger, and you know what ya face now. And you can survive it, I know ya can. Build high ya walls, build strong ya beams. Take strength from dose dat need ya!”

Dranka animatedly pointed outside.

“Someting somewhere be calling for ya, mon. I know you can hear it.” Dranka placed his hand directly over Khadgar’s heart. “In here.” The troll’s dark brown eyes seemed to yawn like cavernous depths. “Trust ya heart. Listen to it. It be takin’ ya where ya need to go.”

Dranka removed his hand, stepping away, and Khadgar felt like he’d just been released from a spell. _Stay away from the voodoo,_ was the memetic warning, but it seemed a little too late for him to heed it now.

“I…” Khadgar cleared his throat, which was suddenly thick and full. “Thank you, Dranka. I think I needed this.”

“Dat be an understatement, mon.” Dranka replied wryly. “But I be happy to help.” He raised an eyebrow. “Ya gonna make good on dis?”

The archmage nodded, reaching for Atiesh.

“Yes, I am. I broke our hearts. I intend to do my best to fix them.” _I won’t let Gul’dan do this to me, to her, again. Not ever.  
_

The druid nodded, a grin breaking out across his face.

“Dat’s what I be wantin’ to hear. And for the record, mon?” Dranka smiled. “I be happy to help. Not just my baby sistah, but you too, mon. If ya need any help in da future, you can ask me. Dat’s a promise.”

Khadgar felt himself smiling for the first time in a while.

“That’s…very kind of you, Dranka. I’ll keep it in mind.”

The druid bowed his head.

“Anyting for a friend. Anyway, you should be gettin’ movin’. Da forests of da Spires be dark already witout waiting until dusk. Go to Axefall an’ head north.” Dranka said. “May ya find her, and may da both of you come back safe. _Aka’Magosh_.”

Khadgar nodded, assuming the troll had given him an Orcish blessing.

“Safe travels, Dranka,” he said, before using Atiesh’s power to transform into a raven and taking wing. The druid followed him outside, watching the archmage catch a thermal and rise out of Zangarra into the clear sky, circling out towards the Spires of Arak.

Dranka chuckled to himself, his eyes glowing an eerie blue as he chanted softly to himself:

“ _Put your faith in what you most believe in,_  
_Two worlds, one family,_  
 _Trust your heart,_  
 _Let fate decide,_  
 _To guide these lives we see…_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

No-one paid attention to the raven that wheeled over the Horde outpost of Axefall, especially as it banked and headed towards the forest in the north. There were many ravens in the Spires of Arak, and a small one was not even worth a second glance.

The flight to the outpost had left Khadgar with a lot of time to think. Despite what Dranka had said, the mage was not convinced that his heart would lead him anywhere in the right direction, more so as he drew closer to the thick tree line of the forest. It was dark and forbidding, as if drawn from a children’s story, and he knew that if Draggka had wanted to disappear in a place like this, then there would be no way aside from scrying to find her.

And yet…

Khadgar flew low over the canopy, folding his wings and dropping into the first gap he found. Darkness enfolded him almost immediately, and he knew why the hunter had vanished here; this was her home, her world, and the archmage was at a disadvantage here, especially alone. 

He fluttered down to the ground and retook his human form, taking a long look at his surroundings. The densely packed trees were what was keeping the forest floor shrouded in gloom, only a couple of rays of sunlight managing to get through the leaves. The grass was dark green, almost black in some places, but it looked and felt healthy, twigs littered across it, as well as dead leaves. Khadgar could smell all the scents he would associate with a forest, from the bark of the trees, the soil, rotting vegetation and the slightest hint of dampness. It was quiet, with no wind to rattle the branches, but as he let his eyes adapt to the shade, he could hear the faint calls of birds, the odd flutter of bat wings, and what he hoped wasn’t the clatter of ravagers in the distance.

Khadgar took in a deep breath, calming himself.

“Alright,” he said to himself, “let’s see if I can do this. It can’t do anything but make me lost, I suppose. Start with the basics.”

He cast his mind back to that fateful day in Talador.

_“Be careful wit your light.” Draggka had said, gesturing to his greatstaff. “It will certainly help you in de dark, but it can attract unwanted attention too. Only fire will give ya light and keep predators away.” She had given him a pointed look. “And I be betting ya don’t wanna be wastin’ ya mana setting fire to tings if you don’t need to.”  
_

“Okay, so let’s not go too crazy…” Khadgar placed an enchantment onto Atiesh, a soft glow emanating from the raven figurehead. He could just see it; it was dim compared to the sunlight around him, but he was sure it would become more useful the deeper he delved in the woods.

“I guess I should look for tracks, then.” The archmage drew his eyes over the grass. “Three day old tracks…in grass.” He sighed. “This was a mistake. I’m never going to find her.”

_“Here, look. A teroclaw.” Draggka had crouched down, pointing at a patch of red orange grass that looked…just like every other patch of grass he’d seen._

_“How can you tell?” He’d asked, crouching beside her._

_“Look at de way grass has bent. Da heel here, da toes, and if ya look hard, dere’s da impression of da claws.” She had traced the footprint as she’d talked, and Khadgar had seen it then, appearing as if by magic._

_“By the Light…that’s amazing!”_

But now he was alone, and Draggka wasn’t here to guide him. Khadgar took another breath to calm himself and his suddenly quivering heart.

“Okay. I can do this. There’s not likely to be many trolls this way out from Axefall. Troll’s feet are distinctive. If I can find her footprints, I’m okay. I think.”

He crouched down, casting his eye critically over the grass and the leaf litter that covered it. It looked so chaotic, and after a couple of minutes of careful staring, the archmage gave a curse.

“Light damnit, I can’t tell the difference between a disturbed leaf and a leaf that’s just fallen!” He leant back on his heels. “I don’t even know what to look for,” he said miserably. “So much for her lessons. I learnt nothing.” He looked up towards the sky. “This would be so much easier if I could just fly around until I find her, or if I’d kept anything to scry with…No, no such luck.”

Khadgar rose to his feet, looking at the gaps in the trees. Surely there must be some way he could find Draggka…

His gaze settled upon a section of the forest that seemed to disappear into gloom and blackness, and for some reason, he felt a pull towards it. It wasn’t something he could describe, he just had a feeling he should go that way. Like a gut feeling, but…more. _It’s always more._

“Makes sense. She’d go towards where it would be darkest. Better place to hide.“ Khadgar muttered. “Alright. It’s not like I have a better plan.”

He walked deeper into the forest, the murk soon making Atiesh’s faint glow almost essential to navigate as the slim shafts of sunlight were swiftly snuffed out by the thick canopy. The archmage also became keenly aware of an ‘outsider’ feeling, of being watched by someone, or something. Maybe it was his imagination, but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled all the same. _You shouldn’t be here._ His gut told him. _You’re not safe. You don’t belong._

“But Draggka does.“ Khadgar muttered to himself, stubbornly continuing on even as briars snagged at his robes, and the nagging feeling that he was getting lost and disorientated built as he weaved between the trees, making enough twists and turns he gave up on ever retracing his steps.

“Rraugh!”

Khadgar froze. That was an unmistakable sound of a raptor’s bark.

“Spike?” He called uncertainly. No response came back in the now silent forest, and Khadgar tightened his grip on Atiesh. “Great, now I’ve just rang the dinner bell for a pack of raptors. Just what I needed.” He swung the staff around, illuminating every dark corner to see where in the gloom the first attack would come from. 

_“Hunters always go for where you be weakest. Neck, flank, back. You tink you’re being hunted, guard dose areas wit your life. If ya can’t run, protect as many of dem as ya can, and let dem come to you. And make dem regret it.”_

The call came again, closer this time, and the mage tensed, gathering magic into his hands and straining for any noise or hint of movement or threat as he slowly backed up to a tree.

Then, out of the dark, a familiar red scaled raptor appeared, hide covered in pale scars, beaded tribal necklaces around its thick neck and feathers tied to leather bands around its arms, with teal blue eyes and the large nose horn it was named for. Khadgar sighed in relief.

“Spike! Thank the Light it’s you. I was worried that I’d gotten the attention of a different raptor that…wanted to…eat me…” The mage’s sentence trailed off in the face of Spike’s unblinking stare and his own slow realization. Spike was Draggka’s loyal companion. Khadgar had deeply upset her, and he was now here, all alone, with her very likely angry raptor.

_Oh dear._

The raptor’s gaze bored into him and Khadgar groped for words, his eyes dropping to the wicked curved talons on Spike’s feet, weapons he’d seen work with deadly efficiency.

“N-now, I know, I know I haven’t done right by Draggka recently, but-”

Spike promptly interrupted him with another bark; a softer one, with a bit of a growl to it, and he jerked his head in something that looked like a ‘follow me’ gesture.

“Are you going to take me to Draggka?” Khadgar asked, but the raptor just turned away and began to walk off. “Okay, stupid question.”

Spike lead him even deeper into the forest, the smell of damp earth becoming more noticeable and foliage getting denser, before he paused on top of a ridge, glancing back at the archmage before looking down the slope. Khadgar felt the need to ask what was going on, but a greater instinct told him to keep quiet, so he silently joined the raptor, following his gaze.

The slope lead down into a small basin, the lower ground free from the trees clustered on the ridge above to form a grove, the branches reaching over to keep it shrouded in shadows. A small body of water was collected in the left side of the basin, like the run-off from a stream, though the darkness had prevented any long reeds from growing at the edges, leaving it more a large, glorified puddle. As Khadgar’s eyes drifted along from the pool towards the back wall of the basin, he saw a curled up figure, with blue three toed feet and pointed ears, and a jolt of recognition went through him.

_I’ve found her._

Khadgar suddenly felt hesitant. Despite his assurances to Dranka back at his tower, standing here looking at the hunter had caused the archmage’s confidence to promptly abandon him. She looked so small, so vulnerable, so..unlike herself, and knowing he had been the one to cause this to happen paralyzed Khadgar with indecision and worry. Even the druid’s reassuring words and truths were ringing hollow in the face of this.

_I’ve done enough damage already. Maybe I should just leave her alone._

That was when Khadgar felt Spike push into him from behind, sending him stumbling forward a few paces. The mage looked back to the raptor, who gave him another encouraging nudge, something in his reptilian eyes that looked like…trust?

Khadgar took a steeling breath, and walked the rest of the way down the slope.

“Draggka?” He called softly.

She looked up at his voice, and his heart clenched at the sight of her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her hair tangled and messy from constant abuse from her hands, her ears drooping slightly, so far from the proud, powerful hunter he knew so well. Her eyes were wide, as if she was looking at a ghost.

“Khadgar?” Her voice rasped from the lack of proper use. “You came back.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Your brother Dranka sent me. You’ve been gone three days, everyone’s worried about you…” He promptly realized his stupidity and quickly added: “I’ve been worried about you.”

Draggka’s gaze held his, the surprise leaving and being replaced by doubt.

“You were?” He could feel the undertone of scorn in her voice, and he couldn’t blame her.

“Yes, I was. I am.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Draggka. I made a mistake, and it’s hurt the both of us. You more than me. I…” He swallowed. “I came to try and repair some of the damage I’ve done. Beg your forgiveness, if I can.”

There was a pause.

“Did Dranka tell you to do this?” She asked, and the mage flinched at the sharp edge to her question.

“Yes and no.” He replied. “He made me realize what I’d done, and that I have to put it right, but…I want to do this, Draggka. Because,” he had to swallow again, “because I care for you, and I hurt you…”

“Then why did you do it?” Draggka cried out, and it cut through the archmage like a knife. “Why’d you leave me? Why?”

Tears were welling up in her eyes again, and Khadgar could feel them building in his own too. Such a simple question, yet a thousand answers filled his head that didn’t fulfil it.

“Because…Because…” And then he found it. “Because I can’t lose you.”

Something shifted inside Khadgar, like a stone from a dam, and the mage decided to let it out, to let it spill out in front of her.

“I, I’ve lost so many people I care about. Medivh, Lothar, Llane, Turalyon, Alleria, Garona, all thanks to Gul’dan and the Legion. When, when you told me about Cordana…I panicked. I…” He closed his eyes, tears and shame burning like fire against him. “I was so selfish. I didn’t want to get hurt again, didn’t want to see, or know what he’d do to you. So I, I thought it’d be better to cut myself away from you. I convinced myself it was to protect you.” 

Khadgar inhaled a wavery breath, gesturing between the two of them. 

“Instead, I’ve played right into his hands. Divided us, weakened us. I just, I couldn’t…” A tear escaped him, and he wiped it away. “I can’t bear to see you corrupted, or killed. Of, of all the people…If I lost you, it’d, it’d…It’d break my heart. More than I’ve already….broken it.” He could barely manage a ‘hah’ noise. “I don’t know if you can forgive me, after all I’ve done to us, to you. I’m sorry, Draggka. I’m so, so sorry.”

Khadgar closed his eyes again, trying to hold back the rest of the tears that were trying to make a break for it. He doubted he could even meet the hunter’s gaze now even if he tried. The silence between them seemed to stretch for hours, and the archmage felt more and more unwelcome and ashamed with every minute that ticked by.

“If,” he began quietly, “if you want me to leave, just say the word.”

“No!” The suddenness of Draggka’s voice made Khadgar jump and open his eyes. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me again.” 

The pain he heard sent a fresh lash of agony over his heart.

“No, no, I’m not leaving you again,” he said, stepping closer. “Not unless you want me too.”

“It be like losin’ a limb,” she said, tears rolling down her face. “I…I felt so alone…”

“So did I…” The mage nodded. “I felt so empty. You were like the colours of the world…when I turned my back on you, everything went grey.” His chest tightened. “Light above, Draggka, I’ve missed you more than I thought I could miss a person.” The mage felt his composure slipping and another tear rolling down his cheek, and he felt something building in his chest, filling the empty space and threatening to crush the breath from his lungs.

It was full of memories of her, how they’d laughed, how he’d embarrassed himself in front her and she’d grinned widely, how her amber eyes shone in wonder when she discovered something exciting, how she’d talked of everything she knew and he’d drunk it in like a thirst that couldn’t be quenched, how impressed and in awe he’d been to watch her fight, the way her hand had fit into his almost perfectly, her smile, their kiss… Khadgar’s heart seared with pain at the thought of having thrown them all away, never to relive them except in his own mind.

“Khadgar?” Draggka asked, freeing him from his thoughts. “Do you…care, for me?”

He blew out the answer out of his lungs as if were his last breath.

“Oh Draggka, I do. I do so much.” Suddenly, the words came out of him. “I love you.”

It was as if the world fell silent; so silent you could hear the leaves fall. Draggka’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape in shocked disbelief. Khadgar himself was taken aback by what he’d just said, before the realization slowly sunk in. Her brother had given him the cynical look back at his tower because he had known, had seen right through the archmage, had seen the truth the mage had not dared believe, had not dared acknowledge.

Now, with nothing left to lose and the druid’s words ringing in his ears, Khadgar embraced and finally accepted it.

“I love you.” He repeated, with more surety this time. “…In all my years, I’d never thought I’d ever, get to say those words. And, well, I wish I could be saying them in better circumstances, but…” Khadgar cleared his throat. “I’m not asking anything of you, Draggka. I don’t deserve to. I…It’s just how I feel towards you. Truly, honestly. Do…Do with it, with me as you will.”

Another silence rolled in around them like mists, and the archmage watched Draggka closely, trying to find the slightest clue in her face to provide insight. Her initial dumbstruck look had faded, and though her orange eyes were still wide, she seemed to be thinking, processing what he’d just said.

Khadgar couldn’t help thinking back to Dranka’s words. _Perhaps she loves you._ Oh, he wanted so badly to hope, to believe, but he crushed it before it formed. _I doubt she loves me any more, after this._

“You…love me?” Draggka spoke, glancing up at him with a curious look to her face. He nodded, going to step forward before thinking better of it. Instead, he crouched down to her level, laying Atiesh down beside him.

“I do. I,” he couldn’t help the half-hearted chuckle that tumbled out of his mouth. “I didn’t let myself believe it at first. But I can’t deny it any more, Draggka. I’ve fallen in love with you. I never thought I would, but you are…you are full of surprises.” He hung his head. “I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I was selfish, selfish and foolish, and to know, to see what I’ve done to you…I don’t know if I can even forgive myself, let alone ask you to forgive me.”

“You were scared.” He looked up at her statement, inordinately pleased that the sorrow was fading from her face and voice.

“I was.” His knees began to ache, and the archmage shifted to sit down, crossing his legs. “Still scared, honestly. Like I said before, I have never, never loved anyone before. I’d been too focused and interested in my studies to consider it, and then Medivh’s…that spell put paid to those matters permanently. It took a while to accept this, but I eventually put it all behind me. Just having friends was perfectly fine, for many years.”

A wry smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

“You changed everything. As you know.” He picked up a small twig and began picking at the loose bark, stripping it off. “Suddenly I wanted more, wanted to see you, to know everything about you. I knew I was falling for you, early on, but I didn’t want to face it. You are Horde, and I’m still technically Alliance; it’s trouble waiting to happen.” 

With the twig now stripped bare, Khadgar sank it into the soft earth as far as it would go. 

“And yet I didn’t care. You make me smile, make me laugh, you teach me things, give me a new appreciation for places such as these,” he gestured to the forest around them. “And for…for what you believe the Horde to be, what it can be.” Finally a spark lit within Draggka’s eyes, and the archmage almost grinned with joy. Instead, he smiled wistfully. “That kiss of ours was my undoing, you know. Deep down, I knew I loved you. Yet I convinced myself I just cared a lot for you, or that I was still figuring things out.”

Khadgar sighed.

“I have a bad habit of losing the people I care for, Draggka. When Gul’dan took Cordana, it got too close to home. It was subtle, insidious, and right in plain sight. And I, I immediately thought of you, and-” It took him a second to get the words out. “Having, having to kill Medivh was the hardest day of my life. Each loss after that has never been any worse, yet never better either. But thinking about losing you, seeing you dead or c-corrupted, I couldn’t stand it, I knew…” He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “If I were forced to kill you, I knew it would destroy me.”

“So I ran. And here we are.” A pause, and he met her gaze. “I would like to start again, if you would will it. I promise I will never leave you alone like that again.”

Draggka seemed to consider this, and Khadgar could almost see the gears turning in her head.

“I be angry at what ya did to me,” she said, and his shoulders slumped with shame. “I thought…I thought you maybe never really cared at all, if you could so easily walk away from me. I felt so bad, I didn’t know how to deal. It be like da Maelstrom, only it be right inside of me, and it hurt, it hurt so much, and wit everyting else?” She shook her head. “It be too much. I ran. And I be staying here, wonderin’ how long it be takin’ until de pain went away.”

“I’m so sorry.” Khadgar whispered.

“And den you came back.” She continued, shifting her position so she faced the mage, sitting on her legs, hands clasped in her lap. “I be thinking at first my brudder had forced you to come.“ She tilted her head to one side. “Now I know dat although he musta yelled at ya, you wanted to come of your own will.”

“Yelling is…quite the understatement.” Khadgar chuckled half-heartedly. “But I needed it.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but everyting you’ve said here be your own. And…I be understanding now. It not be erasing da hurt dat easily, but da wound is clean. Now we can heal.”

“’We’?” The hopeful word escaped him before he could stop himself.

“You said you hurt yourself too.” She reminded him. “You be a good man, Khadgar. I…I know dat, deep in my heart. It be hard to describe what it means to me dat you came back.” The troll closed her eyes, sighing. “A lot of people dat leave me…Dey never come back.”

_Oh but of course,_ Khadgar realized, his face falling. _She’s lost almost everyone she cares about too. Either through death or…turning their backs on her…  
_

“But you came back.” She continued. “You came back, and den you said dat you are sorry, and you told me why.”

“You deserve nothing less.” He answered. “I need to-”

“Stop.” Draggka raised her hand, Khadgar’s eyes widening in surprise. “Dere be no more need for dat.” She smiled, a proper one that the archmage had missed so much. “I forgive you, Khadgar.”

The sheer relief that washed over him pushed out a sigh, and the weight he didn’t realize he’d been carrying on his shoulders lifted away, uncoiling the tension it had created in his body. Hope began to bubble up inside him like a hot spring, though he held himself in check.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

“I missed you.” Draggka said softly.

“I missed you too.” He replied. “Every day.”

“Khadgar?”

“Yes?”

“…Hold me?” The hunter asked, and whilst the request did surprise him, the mage discovered that he wanted nothing more than to do the same.

“Of course.” Khadgar said, rising up onto his knees. Draggka did the same, moving over so he could take her into his arms, her back for once unfettered by her bow and quiver. Khadgar settled back down to sitting, his heart skipping as Draggka went with him, curling into his lap like she belonged there. As she laid her head on his shoulder, looping her arms around him, Khadgar felt as if he’d just come home; the emptiness inside him filling with warmth and calm, and in that very moment, he knew he would never part from her again. He was whole again.

The archmage breathed in deeply, pulling her scent into his lungs and mind, trying to commit it to memory. Draggka smelt of the leather and mail of her armour, the varnish and oil she used on her bow, the gel in her hair, the faint scent of sweat, and something in her soft blue fur was her alone; of rich, wet earth and the rainforest, wild and primal. He forgot about the world outside the trees, about the Alliance, the Horde and the Legion; all that mattered right now was the troll in his arms, and he faintly wished that they could stay here together, away from the chaos and war.

Draggka shifted her position then, pulling herself to sit upright in his lap, tucking her legs underneath herself, and she drew back to look down at him, her hand cupping his cheek. 

“Khadgar,” she said, “I love you too.”

It took a couple of seconds for her words to fully sink in, but when they did, Khadgar felt as if he’d just plunged his hand into a ley line.

“Y-You, you do?” He stuttered, and when she smiled and nodded, not even Sargeras himself could have wiped the smile that stretched from ear to ear off the archmage’s face. “By the Light, Draggka!” Khadgar pulled her in tight to his body, hoping his embrace could tell her what his words couldn’t. He could feel his magic tingling at his fingertips, thrumming in sheer ecstatic joy, and he could only briefly muse at how quickly the day had turned around. To go from thinking he’d destroyed everything between them to learning that she shared his feelings, that she _loved_ him… Unbidden, he felt tears rolling down his face, and he let them. Everything felt so fresh and bright that trying to stop them would like trying to hold the sun in his bare hands.

Draggka managed to pull away from him slightly, cupping his face in her hands again, and he was concerned to see worry in her eyes.

“Are, are you alright? Why are you crying?” She asked, a hint of fear in her voice. Khadgar smiled up at her.

“I’m just so happy,” he said, his own voice heavy with tears. “I thought I’d ruined everything. To, to hear that you love me…that you forgive me…” It took a couple of seconds for him to form his next few words. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

He was relieved when her anxiety faded, replaced by a knowing smile.

“It not be just you who were tinking dey weren’t in love when dey were.” She explained, wiping away one of the mage’s tears with her thumb as he gazed attentively up at her. “I been in love wit ya for a long time, mon. Since da time we fought back-to-back, since ya scared da life outta me wit Garona, since you called me a friend.” The hunter leaned down towards him, resting her forehead against his. “It just be taking a little while for me ta realize.”

“Seems to be a recurring theme.” Khadgar commented wryly, Draggka chuckling softly. “But we’re here now. Despite everything.”

Draggka nodded, pulling back from him.

“We do dis together now, Khadgar,” she said seriously. “We face our problems together.”

“Yes, we do.” He agreed, clasping his hands around hers and taking them from his face, pressing them instead to his heart. “I promise.”

“Good.” The troll smiled. “Now, we can be starting anew.”

“Like the forest after a fire.” Khadgar replied, returning her smile. “Alas, we should really be getting back. You especially.”

“I suppose so.” Draggka sighed, and the archmage could have sworn she pouted. “I can’t imagine how it be looking right now.” She shrugged, her smile returning. “But I can handle it. I be better now. Everyting’s fixed.”

“I hope so.” Khadgar murmured, glancing away. It would take longer for his guilt to subside.

“Khadgar, look at me.” The mage looked back at the hunter’s request, just in time for her to kiss him, hands framing his face once again. He kissed back, eyes sliding closed and his arms wrapped around her to hold her close. The sensation of her calloused fingertips against his skin and her body moving against his raised goosebumps down his back, and the archmage felt the desire to open his mouth and deepen the kiss, to give himself up to it entirely, all thoughts of leaving promptly forgotten. 

Draggka pulled away before Khadgar could act on it, although he followed her a little as she did, as if drawn to her lips like a fish on a line. He blushed, glancing away as the troll slipped off his lap, and he realized that she had been straddling him as they kissed. The mage had been dimly aware of her shifting against him, but he just thought she was just shifting her weight to get comfortable, having been sitting on her legs a while. The discovery only made his blush even worse, though Khadgar couldn’t deny the flicker of disappointment he felt underneath it all. He brushed it aside; their emotions were a bit all over the place right now, and they had a job to do.

He picked up Atiesh and used it to help get to his feet, watching Draggka gather up her bow and belongings, before he felt a familiar shape brush by his legs. Khadgar looked down to see Spike pass him by, pressing his whole body against the archmage’s leg as he went, like a cat. Khadgar was impressed by the raptor’s soundless approach, but he was also intrigued by the sign, especially since Spike did the same with Draggka, accompanied by a rumble that was almost a purr.

“Tink you can portal us outta here, Archmage?” She asked, snapping him from his thoughts, absently petting the raptor’s head as Spike nuzzled into her hand.

“I think I can do that.” Khadgar replied, hands lighting up with magic. “Where to? Frostwall?”

“Yeah, please.” She nodded. “Put us outside if ya can. It be less abrupt if we walk in, den just appear.”

“‘We?’” The mage asked before he began his cast, closing his eyes to focus on the exact area he wanted.

“Yeah, ‘we’.” The hunter said. “It be smoothing over any bad blood dere might be towards ya after…you know.”

“Ah, I see. I figured as much.” Khadgar muttered, opening his eyes at the familiar ‘snap’ of the portal stabilising. “There. It’ll put us outside of Frostwall, on that plateau in front of the main gate.”

“Perfect.” Draggka grinned, a sparkle to her eyes that made his heart skip. “Ya know, I tink it’s high time we give Gul’dan some payback, don’t you?”

A dark smile spread across Khadgar’s lips.

“I agree entirely. Lead on, Commander.”


End file.
